Saturday, August 19, 2017

The last dance

is always longer than expected
with feet turned out toward the final port of goodbye

with emotion, the very minute before breaking
into two different bodies

this is the effect of finality that there is a line
as evasive as the horizon

yet always present, a mad turn
like a fish outside of water

a moment that will run out but is sensory
enough, left skin over hands, hair falling on the shoulders like waterfalls

a move into the direction of sound
a body breaking over another that is departing

there are things we do for pleasure
ones we never speak about when we have a chance to redefine fun

a swan's song in an overstretched winter
is only an attempt to break iced-over waters

I cannot help how my feet greet you
it is the heart I keep worrying about on daily basis

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